He sat in his room staring at the photo. The photo that is the only evidence of what he had done. A task that he began weeks ago. "It was perfect" he thought. He began by finding a target. He watched every move for days. He followed all the spots that he typically frequents. A man, without family or many friends. It only took bumping into him twice to become friends.
We sat for hours talking at the Bar. A small place with 6 stools. It has a thick layer of dust on almost every surface except the bar itself which was frequently wiped almost like a nervous tick by the bartender. There was an old juke box in the corner and pool tables that looked as if they hadn't been used since "Dirty Dancing" was a hit movie. The bar was called "PIG STY" seemingly because of the appearance but actually because the owner and part-time bartender.
The bartender used allot of our time telling us about when he was at the top of the "Department" making high profile arrests. Apparently, his overtime during that time was how he bought the place.
I sent a text to my target a couple days after the first and told him to meet me at the lake front right off Lake Shore drive on Chicago's south side. "Where exactly?" Right across from "The Museum of Science and Industry". It was about 9 p.m. when he showed up. We talked for a bit then I threw him in the water after making sure no one was around. I took a picture while he was calling out for help.
After an hour of looking at the photo I stood up to answer the door. It was the bartender. "Your under arrest".

Yes there are categories. Category five is the hardest. English is the only category five language. English has grammar but there are tons of exceptions. Things are not spelled the way the are said and so on.

"Never done it before doesn't seem like a good enough reason." Pat heart raced at the thought of actually following through with it. "Making it look like an accident is exciting but it's in every crime show on television. Forget it, Roy's a friend, what would I do if I killed him? Where would I play poker on Fridays?"
"Dammit, it's such a good situation. I literally have no motive so I would never be an actual suspect. Oh, shit, I got it. I make the body disappear. That's the best way. No body, No motive, no jail time." Looking around the room Pat looks for something to catch his attention instead of killing his best friend. "Nothing, I have nothing to do in all actuality. The question is, what am I great at? Nothing, so could I actually be great at killing?"
Pat rushes to the mirror to check his face. "Nope, no distinguishing marks. No discolorations. Not even a damn mole. It's almost like I'm perfect for the shit." He runs his hands through his hair as he takes a seat. "So I'd be more like Dexter than Bundy? I don't know about that, I'm not chopping up a damn body. Especially not Roy's fat ass." He glances towards his computer momentarily thinking about ways to dispose of bodies.
"DON'T GOOGLE WAYS TO MAKE CHLOROFORM" Words from the Casey Anthony case flash like headlines through his head. Library! He decides to wait to go to the library until he calms down. Hoping that relieves the possibility of making mistakes. "A professional murderer? terrible title. Unwanted assassin? Now that has a ring." Too excited to sleep, he decides to take a drive and identify a brainstorming diner for his future assassinations.

My cousin held up the viewing line for 30 min.just staring in the casket. He was escorted off unhappily if course. At another funeral saw a bunch of girls in see through dresses tear up the casket if the guy that died.

Day 1090
Walking, I fucking hate walking. I drove through Maine today. The damn sun was scorching, had the top down anway. Same shit every day, wake up, find a car, get gas, food, and drive as fast as possible till I get tired. I'm not sure how I do it day after day. I been giving more and more thought to not waking up. How does the last guy on earth die? Whatever, who gives a shit.
First time in a couple months I thought about watching some porn. Decided to wait till tomorrow, give myself something to do. I found some canned ravioli today. House I was in earlier. Nice looking family from the pictures on the wall.
The wife was hot. Really hot, probably why I thought about popping in a porn and imagining a time when I might have gotten laid.
Electricity, food, and unlimited gas. No people, no animals. I'm getting tired of the quiet, shit, I've been tired of the quiet.
Day 1091
Serviced myself 3 or 4 times. Loaded the 1911 and played a game. I'm still alive so I guess I won.
Today
1092
..........

He stood in front of me and I him. He wore a silver one piece uniform with some type of rank signified on his shoulder. He asked "what year is this" I responded with "2019". I begin to explain that I knew what he was and asked why he was here. He explained "the human race has reached dire proportions pertaining to population. People live with other families and food is scarce. The bulk of humanity has taken to eating babies, mainly because we have no space or food. Babies are born then eaten or traded to wealthier families. The wealthy have access to food, farms, and magic. The magic is the vehicle of my time travel and I am seeking answers.
My family is not wealthy, we work for a very old wealthy man on his compound. For years I stole small amounts of the magic until I had enough to find the answers of which I am searching. The unfortunate truth is that my wife and I have had ten children that were eaten by our employer. We have two daughters and one son that was allowed to live so that they can work the grounds and breed children as well. I works out that our employer has a baby to feed on every 4-6 months and he takes his time eating our children piece by piece. We prepare our own children for him to feast."
I stumbled back as I listened to his quivering voice tell the shocking story of the future of my race. I couldn't believe that we succumb to that type of existence. I explained to my time traveling comrade that I too was a time traveler. I traveled in time to change events and learn from past mistakes. I read books in the library of Alexandria, I studied architecture in ancient Rome and I searched for the lost city of Atlantis. I looked for years to find purpose to life with my ability to move through time. To no avail, I learned much but, was able to change very little.
I signed on to help this traveler. I could not allow humanity to arrive to the brink of disintegration. I explained to my new friend that the solution might be found in the classified government records on population control.

Take in tasks that everyone else would stay away from. Talk to everyone and remember small facts about their lives. It keeps you from thinking of yourself and how awesome you are because you know more about others.

This dude is going to be one of the next greats of this generation. He's better than Dwight already. He's doing all this without a great coach. Give him a Van Gundy and watch out. Probably should change the team name though.

Poor people would probably be workers for very low wages. The rich would be the only people with the time and means to enjoy their lives. I would imagine a cast system. Mobility between classes would cease.

there is not enough room on the court for Melo to work the high post and Kobe to do the same thing. The only way this works is if Kobe takes over the primary handling responsibilities and facilitate for Melo and Pau. Kobe would still be the 4th quarter guy just like Reggie miller until he retired.